Mama Dada

The more I understand

She cannot take care of herself

There are childish things

with us always

Baby cries, whimpers, and tears

A face so contorted

So quick

Just a flash

Baby, here’s a rattle

Baby, let me rock you back and forth

Baby, can you speak

I want to be angry

I want to be justified

He scowls

I want for me

Only just because

I know me and what I need

Baby, look at me

Look at yourself

I can let you crawl.

Over here, don’t cross the line